Garth of Tregillis (26 page)

He spoke on and on about himself and Verity, but eventually he turned the conversation towards me. ‘I only wish you were as happy as Verity and I are. I wish you and Garth could see eye to eye—but of course there’s always Armanell.’

Paul, of course, could know nothing of that final row between them—or was it final?

He seemed to sense my sudden depression. ‘Oh well, there are other fish in the sea,’ he consoled. ‘After all, you’ll be leaving here soon. You’ll be meeting all sorts of fascinating men.’

‘I don’t think it will be that way for me,’ I said softly. ‘I have a very different nature from yours. I’m the stupid, one-man type of woman—’

It was at that moment Garth cut in. There could be no mistaking his tall, broad-shouldered figure or his deep voice, although now he wore a black velvet mask that covered his eyes and cheekbones.

As he turned away with a little half-ironic bow, I could see Paul’s mischievous smile.

For a while we danced in silence. I felt ecstatically happy. I was in Garth’s arms: the music was dreamy and romantic: his mouth smiled beneath the black velvet mask. If only this could go on for ever!

Then quite suddenly my little world of make-believe dissolved in splintered shards. ‘So I’m forgiven. We must never quarrel again, you and I. Remember there can only be one true love in Marie Antoinette’s life, and that is Axel Fersen.’

But of course he was wearing the costume suggested by Armanell. He was referring to the quarrel between them. So I had been right in thinking that nothing was really final between them!

I didn’t answer. I felt sick at heart and I was actually glad when the dance was over, and he moved away, still with that satisfied smile.

And I was glad I had not answered him. I had not Armanell’s faintly French intonation. It would only have been embarrassing for both of us when he discovered his mistake.

For the rest of the evening I danced with others and, in fact, danced with both Harlequins, who bitterly resented each other’s choice of costume. The evening sped by. I should have been happy, but a persistent little ache lay behind everything.

The evening sped along and in no time it was twelve o’clock and time for unmasking and I felt a suffocating disappointment as the seconds ticked nearer and nearer to that moment—for once again I was dancing with Garth. I could not bear to see the look of disappointment that must cross his face when we unmasked and he realized that, after all, I was not Armanell.

The music stopped: there was a roll on the drums and laughing and chatting excitedly people began to pull off their masks. There were bursts of laughter and surprise as people discovered whom they had been dancing with.

Quickly Garth snatched aside his mask and stood looking at me and as I gazed back through the slits of my mask I thought how different his expression was from the way he had looked at me on that first evening when he had caught me in the library with Diana’s letter in my hand. Now all sternness was washed away: his expression was one of tenderness.

‘Why don’t you take off your mask?’ he asked softly. ‘You’re cheating.’

Slowly I raised my hand and took off my mask. ‘Yes, I have been cheating. You see, I’m not Armanell. I’m Cinderella, and the witching hour has struck. My glittering coach has turned into a pumpkin again and I’m just Judith Westall, whose place is at the top of the house with the children.’

But instead of the look of grim disapproval I had expected, he flung back his head and laughed.

I stared at him in bewilderment.

‘What a little idiot you are, Judith! Did you think that by keeping silent you were deceiving me? Did I not tell you you would make a tall, stately queen?’

‘Oh yes, my height! I’d forgotten,’ I muttered confusedly.

What a fool he must think me! Naturally he would not mistake me for Armanell, who was so small-boned and petite! But if he hadn’t confused us—I felt my heart thud as the full implication dawned on me.

‘I never cared for fancy dress because happiness fades when the clock strikes twelve, but in real life love can live on for ever, as ours will.’ Then he was leading me through one of the long open windows, down through the moonlit garden so that the sounds of music and laughter were faint and muted.

‘I want you for my queen,’ he whispered. Then he took me in his arms and kissed me, and the fountain rippled gaily in the background as though it shared my ecstasy.